


A Great Beginning

by ashes_at_midnight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Hogwarts Founders Era, Time Travel, Time Turner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3289070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes_at_midnight/pseuds/ashes_at_midnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One moment in time can change the course of history. What you thought you knew, could turn out to be a lie. The man you have always hated, could change your life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to the always amazing J.K Rowling, the plot however is all mine.
> 
> Written for: Missa Pugliani-Fisk/ Birdie'Jaden'Blythe
> 
> Prompt used: Time is a tricky thing, one misspoken word, a handshake out of place, anything can change time.
> 
> A/N: This story was written in response to a prompt that was given to me by Birdie Blythe. The Fic Awesome Gift Exchange (FAGE) is a bi-annual event that I haven't participated in for a few years. It's nice to be back writing something for someone. I haven't written a chaptered Harry Potter fiction in a very, very long time. I hope you all like it. This isn't a pairing I would normally write, and something I wouldn't read either, but it suited the prompt, so I thought I would give it a go.
> 
> You can find the rest of the FAGE 007 stories here www . fanfiction community /FAGE-007/93625/
> 
> Read, review but most of all enjoy.

**…**

**A Great Beginning  
**

**Chapter 1**

This wasn't the normal type of work befitting the brightest witch of her generation, Hermione Granger mused as she walked through the dark corridors of the Department of Mysteries. She clutched a stack of parchments and books to her chest, her bag slung over her shoulder. She should be upstairs, researching new spells, and potion techniques, talking to the healers of St. Mungo's about the best use of Dragon's blood, or improving the Goblin and Centaur relations after yet another year of quarrels.

But instead she was down here, in the most isolated section of the Ministry of Magic. In the Department of Mysteries storage area. She was to spend the day Stocktaking the various Dark Arts artefacts that had been confiscated over the years. Cursed objects, even spell books containing the darkest of spells, Sneakoscopes, illegally modified Portkeys, even the Ministry's supply of Time Turners. It was a daunting task that would take her hours, if not days. It was an annual process that had been assigned to her. Why her - when she could be so useful elsewhere, and not some intern she did not know. But it had put her in a bad mood. Hermione Granger had no use for wasting time, and this was definitely a time waster.

The hassle of trying to get out of the assignment (and the paperwork she would have to do because of it) wasn't worth the trouble. So she took her bag, and the parchment and books she was given, with only a few stern words, and not a heated argument and the accompanying letter of complaint she would normally have done.

Resigned to her fate, but still annoyed, she convinced herself that the quicker she got on and did the job the quicker she could finish. The scolding of her superiors could come after.

With a heavy sign she opened the door to the supply rooms and looked around. There was an entire wall filled with spell books, while the rest of the shelves filling the room contained an assortment of different things. She put her bag down by the door and got out her quill. Tapping her wand against its point she muttered a quick spell that would insure a steady supply of ink. She picked up the roll of parchment she was carrying, and starting at one end of the room she meticulously started jotting down her calculations.

The process took ages, a few hours passed and she decided it was time for a break. Walking upstairs she bought herself a nice hot cup of tea (no sugar) and a sandwich. After lunch she headed back downstairs and walked into the next room. This one was filled with Time Turners. The Ministry of Magic was the only place where you could acquire one.

The secrets in its making was a carefully guarded secret, every Time Turner was carefully regulated and permits were given in only very important circumstances. Having been privy to the very best and the very worst a Time Turner could offer Hermione had always had a deep respect for the powerful device. Terrible things happened to those who messed with time. It was not something that anyone wanted in the wrong hands.

This room was one of the Ministry's most best kept secrets, if the Wizarding World knew of this place who knew what kind of mischief the more questionable members of their society would do to get their hands on one.

Hermione looked around the room in awe. It was huge, with thousands of Time Turners stored on every surface in the room. Some were as small as a fingernail and others almost as large as a man's head filled the room. They were stacked everywhere. Shelves lined the walls, with long tables filling the centre of the room.

She walked forward and put her bag down on the ground. As she straightened up she accidentally knocked the table, and the Time Turner nearest to her (a very old, very ornately carved, silver one on a long chain) toppled off its secure base, bounced onto the table and fell off the table.

As the Turner fell, spinning to the floor the air around it started to shift as time was displaced. Hermione, standing right next to it, felt the familiar, gentle nudge in the middle of her chest as she was pulled through time with it. With a gasp Hermione lunged forward, and grabbed at the Time Turners long silver chain that was trailing behind it. Her hand around it stopped the little device from falling and smashing on the floor, but it continued to spin as it danced on the end of the long chain, moving through time at an unmeasurable speed. Desperate, Hermione grabbed it with her other hand. Finally managing to stop its spin.

The sudden stop felt like she had hit a wall at a dizzying speed. She gasped and stumbled. Mud under her shoes caused her to slip and suddenly she was falling backwards. She landed in a puddle of muddy water and wet cobblestones, the ancient Time Turner hitting the ground at her side and cracking with the impact.

With a groan she lifted her head and looked around. The Department of Mysteries, and the room with the Time Turners was gone. She was lying on the floor, in the mud and the dirt, on the edge of a cobblestoned street. She rolled onto her side and looked around, houses lined the street, all of them were thatched, and made with hard packed clay and wood. There was glass in the windows, but it was opaque and she couldn't see through it. Chicken's pecked across the yard in front of her, and she heard a horse whinny from its pen behind a nearby house. She liked her lips nervously, something was very, very wrong. Slowly she sat up, blinking as the clouds parted, and the sun came out.

At the moment there wasn't another person in sight, but she knew that wouldn't last long. Dressed in her favourite pair of black boots, black pants, a short sleeved white blouse, and a tailored grey jacket she had no hope of blending in with the locals. She wondered what century she was in.

A Time Turner, unlike a Portkey does not transport you across a distance. A Time Turner moves you through time only, depending on how many repetitions the Turner spins, and how powerful the magic in it is. Some Time Turners were designed to move hours, others centuries, and the magic inside each determined that. Hermione didn't know how far back she had gone. Judging from the lack of downtown London, and the skyscrapers she had grown accustomed to she figured it was at least a few centuries, though it wouldn't surprise her if it was a much higher number. Luckily she had her wand with her.

But that was the only bright side.

The Time Turner was broken, cracked right down the centre where it had hit the cobblestone street. She didn't want to risk using it in case she caused more damage, and she didn't know how to fix it, or even where to start. She was stranded.

She got to her feet slowly and looked around, brushing off her pants. She bent down and picked up the Time Turner, slipping the chain around her neck and tucking it under her shirt. It brought back memories of her third year at Hogwarts, when Professor McGonagall gave her a Time Turner so she could get to all the extra classes she was taking. She smiled at the memory. If it hadn't been for her determination to take every class available things would have turned out a lot differently. Sirius Black would have died that year, as would Buckbeak, a proud Hippogriff. Hagrid still had the old beast, Hippogriffs living to almost twice the age of horses.

A sudden shout pulled her out of her musings and she gave a start, quickly looking towards the sound. The angry voice had come from one of the houses to her right. A man was staring out the open window at her. He disappeared and a second later the front door opened, He ran outside, shouting and waving a fist at her. Her eyes widening, Hermione took her wand out of her pocket. Thinking quickly she thought of the only place she was sure to still exist, before turning on the spot and apparating away from the angry man.

. . .

She landed just outside the grounds of Hogwarts castle.

Stealing herself she looked up at the old building. It looked exactly the same, except…

The Quidditch Pitch was gone, she could just imagine Harry and Ron's horror at this development and smiled, despite herself, at she thought of her two best friends. It was puzzling though, Quidditch had been the Wizarding World's national sport for centuries, the origins of the favoured sport having started long ago in the 11th century (Thank you, _Quidditch Through the Ages_ ).

Just how far back had she traveled? Hermione wondered. Narrowing her eyes in contemplation she started forward up the path. There wasn't any gates, and as she got closer she realised Hagrid's Hut and the Greenhouses were gone too. Instead a large vegetable patch covered the lawn in front of the castle. The path curved up a hill, and Hermione found herself a little out of breath.

As she got closer to the castle she realised something else was different about the ancient school. The stone was clean, shiny and vibrant, it almost looked….new. Which was impossible. Hogwarts was a thousand years old, there was no way her little Time Turner had made that much of a leap through Time.

Frowning to herself she walked up the last three steps of the castle and stood in front of the door. She took a deep breath, put her hand on the knocker and slowly pushed the big wooden door open. It didn't creak, like she was used too. The brass knocker gleamed in her hands, the wood shiny and freshly oiled. She opened the door just wide enough that she could slip through the opening, closing the door behind her.

**...**

 


	2. Chapter 2

**...**

**A Great Beginning**

**Chapter 2**

Hermione tiptoed through the deserted corridors of the Castle, the heels of her boots making a soft clicking sound with every step. She went to the kitchen's first, but couldn't find the entrance. Sighing in annoyance she headed upstairs, negotiating the changing staircases and a suit of armour that turned its head as she slowly walked past.

She headed to Gryffindor Tower, the familiar walk doing little to sooth her increasing nerves. Now that she was inside the castle the changes between this time, and the one she knew were even more pronounced. Most of the portraits were gone, there were a few here and there, but for the most part the walls were bare, and the castle was quiet. For mid-afternoon it was unusual, it must be the middle of the summer holiday's for it to be this quiet.

The entrance to Gryffindor Tower came into sight and she stopped in shock. Instead of the portrait of The Fat Lady there was a large tapestry hanging from the ceiling to the floor. Her jaw dropped, it was beautiful, detailed and made with time and care, as she stared at in awe the little embroidered figures moved across the material. She walked forward to get a closer look.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said from behind her.

With a loud gasp, Hermione turned around, her wand held out in front of her. She found herself staring at the point of another. Swallowing the lump in her throat she raised her eyes. Staring up into the face of a tall, wide shouldered man in a red tunic, sleeveless vest, and breeches. There as a golden sword strapped to his waist. His think reddish-gold hair and beard was long and bushy.

Like a lions.

She was so shocked she didn't even have time to mutter a counter spell.

"Expelliarmus," he snapped, and her wand flew out of her hand. He reached out and caught it easily, he looked down at her wand curiously and turned it over in his fingers.

Her eyes were wide with surprise. "Gryffindor?" she whispered. Having recognised the founder of her house from the detailed entry in her favourite book. ( _Hogwarts, A history_ )

He glanced up, a surprised look on his face. "Aye, it is," he said with a frown. "May I ask who you are?"

She licked her lips nervously. "Hermione. Hermione Granger," she said quietly.

He frowned, but that wasn't unusual. She was used to strangers reacting to her name. "Hermione," he said, testing the name on his lips. "What are you doing here, you are no student of this school, of that I am certain, and your clothes are very strange indeed."

Hermione glanced down, conscious that her fitted black pants, and white (almost sheer) blouse was not exactly the most appropriate attire for a woman of the tenth century.

"No, I'm not. I finished my seventh year over a decade ago."

Godric frowned again. "Seventh year? We only teach five, and the school has only been open a decade. I certainly don't remember you."

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, how much should she tell him? "You wouldn't, I'm not from around here." He opened his mouth to speak again but she held up her hand to stop him, she had to say it now or she would convince herself otherwise – and he needed to know. "I'm from the year 2006."

Godric Gryffindor, the founder of the bravest House in Hogwarts stared at her like she had suddenly started speaking gibberish. She didn't think the counter curse would be particularly helpful in this scenario so she kept quiet.

"2006," he said slowly, trying to come to terms with this startling news.

He looked her slowly up and down, taking in her clothes and the way she held herself with confidence. He glanced down at her wand and turned it over in his hands. "When I became a teacher at this school I thought I would stop being surprised," he said to her as he looked her in the eye and smiled. "But you've certainly changed that. How did you get here?"

Hermione reached under her shirt and pulled the chain over her head. She handed the Time Turner to Gryffindor. He examined it critically, muttering a few words under his breath, but the Time Turner was broken, and didn't do anything. "What is this? I have never seen anything like this before."

"It's a Time Turner," she explained. "It does pretty much what it says it does. But it's broken." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she smirked. He frowned in annoyance.

She cleared her throat. "I was hoping you might be able to fix it."

"I won't be able to help, fiddly things like this - I never mastered those intricate spells. No, this will much more suited to Salazar, and Rowena," he said, as he handed her back her wand.

Hermione pocketed the wand. _Slytherin and Ravenclaw._ She thought in awe. Then the reality came crashing down. And she remembered how she had come to this school in the first place. "I would like that," she said, hardly believing it herself.

. . .

It was very strange to be sitting again in Dumbledore's office. It resembled nothing like the room she remembered. There were no comforts from the twentieth century, no Fawkes sitting on his perch. She was sitting in a chair opposite the desk, Godric was sitting on the other side, directly facing her. Two other people were in the room with them, both around her age or a little older. She took a deep breath and sat quietly as they stared at her. She knew it must be strange for them, and so she kept quiet, taking the opportunity to study the two women in front of her.

The first was a short, blonde woman, who was sitting next to Godric. With a heart-shaped face, and her hair pulled up in a bun, she seemed very cheerful, and bubbly. She stared at Hermione with interest, smiling when she noticed the other witch watching her. This must be Hufflepuff, Hermione though, unable to help smiling back.

The woman standing on Godric's other side was tall and willowy thin, with a fine-boned face with big, bright hazel eyes. Long hair the colour of dark chocolate fell to her waist in ringlets.

The three continued to look at her curiously for a few minutes. Finally Hermione cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, not feeling very sorry at all, "but can you help me?"

"This is extraordinary," the dark haired witch said as she picked up the Time Turner, Hermione had handed over and examined it closely. She was fascinated, never seeing anything like this in her entire life. "How on earth did they make this?"

"I don't know," Hermione said quietly, "I was hoping you could tell me. You're Ravenclaw after all."

Rowena glanced up, an amused expression on her face. "You've heard of me?"

" _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_. Of course. I've heard of all of you. You're the School Houses."

The three founders looked at each other in shock. "The school houses?" Helga said quietly.

"Yes," Hermione answered, realising she had probably mentioned too much, but she couldn't back out now. "When I went to Hogwarts students were separated into different houses depending on their different personality traits. Gryffindor – which is my house," she said with a smile, "Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

"There are enough students for that?" Helga asked again in shock. Hermione nodded.

"Salazar will be pleased," Gryffindor said dryly.

Hermione bit her lip. She could guess exactly what the other founder would have to say. In her time it was common knowledge that Salazar Slytherin hated muggleborn witches and wizards, like she herself was. Wanting to keep the knowledge of witchcraft within the families that were born to it, and not those who came from muggle (non-magical folk) families. She was not looking forward to meeting him at all.

She imagined the man behind the house that had produced the worst Dark Wizard in history couldn't be a very nice man. She glanced up at the others as they continued to look at her. "Students are sorted into houses based on your own values, they used an old hat, bewitched it so that it could read the students inner most secrets and abilities. It almost sorted me into Ravenclaw," she said with another smile, "but in the end, it felt Gryffindor would suit me better."

"How many students are at the school when you were there?" Rowena asked.

"A few thousand."

They all looked surprised at that news. "Good gracious!" Helga said, putting a hand to her mouth in shock.

"Merlin's shoes!" muttered Gryffindor under his breath, causing Ravenclaw to glare at him disapprovingly.

Rowena looked at the Time Turner again before she put it down on the desk in front of her. Hermione took it back and slipped it over her neck. "I am not sure how well I will be able to help," the other witch admitted, "This looks incredibly complicated. I can transform a bat into a goblet, but fixing magical artefacts is not something I am an expert in. I would not like to risk your life on my abilities."

Hermione frowned sadly. "Can…can Slytherin help?" she asked, dreading the answer. She had been hoping to avoid him at all cost.

"He will, yes," Rowena tried to reassure her, "but it's getting late now." She looked at Godric and Helga, and at their nod continued. "I was wondering, would you like to stay here at the castle until we can fix this Time Turner for you? It might take a while, but Salazar _will_ help. He'd be fascinated to understand how this works."

Hermione bit her lip. She wasn't sure she wanted Slytherin to know the intricate workings of the device. It was dangerous, and she didn't want that kind of knowledge in his hands. But if she was to get home she didn't think she had much choice. Rowena was extremely smart, but she had read that Slytherin in particular was good at theories, and transfiguration.

"I would like that," she said.

Rowena smiled. "I will organise a room for you while we eat. Come."

Godric smiled at her as he got up and led the three women from the room. Helga walked beside Godric and they chatted quietly. Hermione fell into step behind them, Rowena at her side. "How are you coping," the older witch asked her quietly. "It must be hard for you, being in another time. I can't imagine how much has changed, the clothes alone…" she indicating Hermione's outfit.

Hermione chuckled. "It is a bit of a shock, I can't imagine what you all must be feeling, I'm sorry to have barged in like this."

"Don't worry about it dear. We are used to strange happenings, and we don't get a lot of visitors over the summer once the students have left for the holidays. It's nice to talk to somebody who knows our world." She paused thoughtfully, "Someone who we don't have to hide from."

Hermione looked at her sadly. "I know what you mean," she said quietly, "my friends, they are like us, but my parents aren't."

Rowena looked at her in shock. "Your parents are not born to magic?"

Hermione glanced at her. "Yes, a lot of witches and wizards come from families of non-magical parents. Is it not the same for this time?"

"No, of course not," Rowena said.

"So, you don't agree?" Hermione said in surprise.

"No, I do." Rowena said, "It makes sense if we are to continue to grow and flourish as a community. We must take care of our own, including any that show the gift of magic."

"But…" Hermione prompted.

"But after what happened last year, with Salazar in particular. I know he no longer shares our views. I must admit, I am a little worried myself. But that is no excuse not to let those who have the gift of it learn. We can't let a few bad eggs ruin it for the rest of us."

Hermione frowned in confusion. She had no idea what Rowena was talking about. "What happened last year," she asked in concern.

"Salazar's wife." Rowena said as they started to descend the stairs to the next floor. "She died last year, she was born to non-magical parents."

Hermione's eye's widened in shock and horror. "Oh gosh. I'm so sorry. He must be devastated." She didn't know what to believe. Salazar Slytherin, the man responsible for the prejudice towards muggleborn's that still existed 1000 years later was married to a muggleborn. She didn't know what to think, it certainly changed the perspective she had of his character.

"Don't be," Rowena said, shocking Hermione again.

"What?" Hermione gasped in shock. "What do you mean?"

Rowena looked at her out of the corner of her eye. "She was a Dark Witch, using magic's so abhorrent I dare not speak of them. She killed herself, and I'm afraid Salazar let her do it. The power she was willing to use would have destroyed us all."

Hermione stopped in shock. "His wife was a Dark Witch? But…I thought…" she paused. "I thought he encouraged that." She said quietly.

Ahead of her Rowena paused and turned around, looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs. "What in the world gave you that idea?" she said in shock. "Salazar is strictly opposed to the Dark Arts, he finds them unspeakable. His wife on the other hand…." Rowena gave her a sad look over her shoulder, and continued on her way.

**...**


	3. Chapter 3

**...**

**A Great Beginning**

**Chapter 3**

Dinner was a simple affair. The three founders and Hermione all sat at a round table in The Great Hall, a chair had been set aside for Slytherin but he hadn't arrived yet. They had plates and cups set in front of them, and two House Elves walked into the hall and set dishes in the middle of the table. She frowned at that. S.P.E.W, was still something she was passionate about. But now was not the time, she smiled and held her tongue.

A lot of the food were things Hermione was familiar with, but there were a few things that had obviously failed to live past the dark ages, judging from the look of them, she wasn't missing anything. She wrinkled her nose and chose something she knew the name of.

Sitting around the table, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were on either side of her, the space beside Rowena was empty, and Godric sat next to Helga. The door towards the kitchen opened and a House Elf hurried over. "Excuse me Sir, Madam's, but Professor Slytherin will not be joining us this evening," she said with a squeak.

"Did he say why?" Helga asked as Hermione frowned

The House Elf shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

Godric sighed and turned to Hermione apologetically. "I'm sorry about this," he said.

"It hasn't been the best year." Rowena added.

"He acts like this sometimes, you can see him in the morning," Helga added quietly, reaching out and patting her arm.

Hermione frowned. "But what about the broken Time Turner, I have to get home."

"It will have to wait," said Godric. "Salazar does not like to be disturbed when he does not want company."

Hermione sighed angrily. This wasn't going the way she planned at all. This was taking much longer then she thought it would. She wondered if the others were worried about her. Poor Mrs Weasley must be beside herself, and it wasn't good for McGonagall to get this worked up at her age.

"Now," Godric said passing her the roasted potatoes. "It's time to eat. I'm famished."

. . .

Later that night Hermione lay awake in the bedroom Rowena had converted for her. It was on the First floor, near the kitchens. Rowena had transfigured a small, unused classroom into a bedroom. Complete with four poster bed, a vanity and a wardrobe filled with witches robes, and dresses. Hermione looked around and smiled. It had been almost a decade since she had slept in the castle, it was like coming home again.

She took a long bath enjoying the relaxing feeling the hot water and aromatherapy candles gave on her tired aching muscles. Bruises covered the back of her shoulder, and her hip where she had hit the ground. Taking her wand she tapped the tip against her bruised flesh and muttered the powerful, but simple spell (for those with the power) to heal her bruised flesh. They faded before her eyes. She smiled and put her wand back on the dresser beside the tub and leaned her head back against the bathtub, closing her eyes in contentment, slowly drifting off to sleep.

A loud shout from down the hall awoke her with a start. With a gasp she fell under the water, she struggled for a second before she managed to put her feet on the bottom of the tub and push herself up. She grabbed the side of the bathtub with her hands and lifted her head above the water. Coughing water out of her lungs she pushed her hair out of her face.

Another shout came from outside her suite and she turned her head towards the sound. It wasn't that far away, and almost sounder like it was coming from below her – in the dungeons. With a frown she got out of the tub, dried herself quickly and wrapped a towel around her wet hair. She dressed in underwear and the long, old fashioned nightgown Rowena had provided her, and then wrapped a long while fluffy robe around her. She put on a pair of slippers and then opened the door to her rooms. She looked down the hall, took a deep breath and stepped outside. "Lumos," she muttered as she closed the door behind her and holding her wand out in front of her she walked forward. She hadn't gone far when the hallway opened to the entrance way and she looked around again. The noise, as she suspected before was coming from the dungeons below her. She descended the stairs slowly, the wand still held out in front of her lighting the way.

Noises were coming from the second door on her right. A soft hiss reached her ears. She took another deep breath and put her hand on the doorknob. Before she could push it open, the handle twisted under her fingers and someone on the other side of the door pulled it open. She let out a gasp and jumped back.

A tall man stood in front of her, his wand pointed at her chest. It didn't escape her notice that this was the second time this had happened in a number of hours. As her eyes adjusted to the light coming from inside the open door she noticed a large, green snake had wound itself around his wand arm and draped itself over his shoulders. It hissed and turned its head towards her, fixing her with eyes of golden amber.

She turned her eyes away instantly. She would know that stare anywhere, the last time she had looked at eyes like that she had ended up petrified, and her best friends had almost died.

"I don't want it looking at me," she snapped, uncaring that she was being rude.

The man in front of her frowned, tilted his friend to the side. He lowered his wand and turned to the snake, taking it in his hands and talking to it in Parsletongue as he turned around and lowered it to the ground. Hermione watched it out of the corner of her eye as it slithered away.

Salazar straightened up and turned to look her in the eye. "You can open your eyes now," he said dryly.

Hermione took a deep breath and looked at him. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Not many can recognise a Basilisk as young as this."

"I've seen it before," she said dismissively, "Why didn't it kill me?" she asked, "I looked at it before I realised what it was."

"A juvenile such as this does not have the power to kill," he paused, "or petrify, until it has reached maturity, at about 50 years."

"Why the questions?" he asked.

"Can you…can you train it?" she asked quietly, ignoring him.

He raised an eyebrow, but continued. "If you had the patience for it," he said. He tilted his head to the side, indicating she should come inside.

He walked ahead of her, heading towards the bench in the centre to the room that was filled with jars, and trinkets. A candle burned at each end, and in the centre of the bench was a small reptilian creature with a pair of bat like wings. Hermione frowned for a moment, before she shrugged and followed him. Closing the door behind her. "Who are you?" she asked, thought she already had a fair idea, she wanted to hear it confirmed.

"Who are you?" he asked, not bothering to turn around from the bench.

"I asked you first," she said. As she moved forward the creature turned its head and hissed. "Is that a dragon?"

The man raised an eyebrow, amused. "What question do you want me to answer first?"

Hermione glared, but all he did was laugh. "I am Salazar Slytherin, and yes that is indeed a dragon. My own if you must know. It's mother abandoned it, as mother dragons are common to do, and I am taking care of the creature until it can be safely released back into the wilderness."

Hermione stared in shock. Salazar Slytherin was a tall man, with close cropped dark hair and a black goatee and mustache. His clothes were dark, in a mix of different shades of green, with a white tunic. The torches in the dungeon flickered over his face, and she noticed his eyes were the colour of emeralds.

She frowned, he wasn't at all what she expected.

"Are you going to answer my question?" he asked, dryly.

"Oh. I'm Hermione." She said, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

He raised an eyebrow again. Studying her. Rowena had told him there was a young woman in the castle who had come here from another time. That she needed help.

"What are you doing wandering the castle at night?" he asked.

"I heard you yelling," She said, and pointed to the dragon, "It sounds like he has been giving you some trouble."

"She," he corrected. "The females are always more violent than the males – can't imagine why." He said dryly.

"Charming." She muttered.

Salazar actually laughed. "You're interesting, I admit. Now, why don't you tell me what's wrong. Ravenclaw mentioned you had some strange device to show me."

"Why weren't you at dinner?" she asked quickly.

"I have more important things to do," he said dismissively. "I ate in my chambers."

Hermione frowned again, but she reached out from under her nightdress and pulled the Time Turner over her head, handing it to him. He took it from her hand and turned it over a few times, studying it.

"This is a Time Turner," she explained.

"It's broken," he murmured.

"Yes. I know," she said, "It smashed when I hit the ground." She paused to judge his reaction. "I was hoping you could fix it, I heard you were good at this kind of thing."

"I'm very good." He said, without a hint of humour, turning his attention back to the device in his hand. "This is astonishing, I haven't seen anything like this before. When were these first made?"

"I…I do not know."

Salazar frowned in response. "Do you mind if I keep this tonight, to study?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wasn't sure if she trusted him. What if something went wrong? What if she couldn't get back?

"Will you try to fix it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He frowned again. "Of course," he said in confusion.

Hermione didn't say anything more, she just nodded, letting the subject drop. After that Salazar and asked her for details about what exactly happened to make her come here. Hermione answered carefully, trying not to reveal too much about the future, but also making sure he knew everything of relevance.

"How much do you know about time?" she asked.

"Its wibbly wobbily, timey wimey?!" she offered, unable to help herself.

He gave her a strange look and Hermione sighed, she didn't know why she had bothered. "Not much," she amended quickly.

"Time is constant, it neither slows nor speeds up. Our concept of time is inherent of how we perceive our surroundings. Can we change it? Yes, if we have the right tools for it."

"It's change," Hermione said quietly.

"Yes, but it is also the same. There is so little, yet so much of it."

He looked down at the Time Turner for a few minutes, contemplating his next question. Under the candlelight the silver metal shined brightly.

"Does it just moves time? Not space?" Salazar asked. A roll of parchment and a quill appearing at his elbow with a wave of his wand and he started to write down notes. Hermione nodded.

"I think this might require more study then I first though." He mused.

"I'd like to help" she offered.

Salazar was silent for a few minutes as he studied her. She struggled not to look away. He might be one of the most powerful wizards in history, and co-founder of the best magical school in the world, but at the moment he was only a few years older than herself, and her equal.

"I'm more than capable." She said, matter of fact.

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you go to this school, in your time?"

"Yes."

"Did you graduate?" he asked dryly.

She glared. "Highest in my class," she said with a hint of pride.

His eyebrows raised again. "Interesting," he muttered to himself. "Yes, I think you can help."

He turned around and put his hand on the baby dragon's back, comforting it as it growled softly.

Hermione smiled and took out her wand. "I was wondering if maybe a simple repair spell could work, how about we try that first, and work our way to the more complicated charms."

"Logical way to look at it," he agreed, smiling back at her.

**...**


	4. Chapter 4

**...**

**A Great Beginning**

**Chapter 4**

The next morning Hermione woke up late, she couldn't believe how tired she was – she wasn't used to late nights studying anymore. She yawned and rolled over, stretching in bed. She turned her head and looked out the window. The heavy blinds blocked out most of the sunlight streaming through the window. She through back the covers and rolled out of bed. She yawned again and sat up. Walking over, she opened the drapes, letting the morning sun stream through the window. She smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun's rays before turning and sitting down in front of the vanity.

She undid the braid in her hair and rubbed it out before grabbing the brush on the nightstand and started running it through her long thick, curly hair. After a few minutes when the tangles were suitably untangled she put the brush down and gathered her hair into a pony tail. There was a soft knock at her door and when she called out an Elf stuck its head into her room.

"Good morning Miss," the House Elf squeaked in greeting.

"Morning," Hermione answered with a smile.

"Would you like a bath drawn for a morning wash?" the Elf asked.

Hermione smiled and looked over at the large tub near the window. She had had one last night, but it would do her good. "That would be lovely, thankyou."

The House Elf bowed and disappeared, appearing a moment later with a bowl of steaming water in its glove wrapped hands. It was followed by a few other Elf's. Who all poured their bowls of hot water into the tub until it was filled to the ideal depth.

"Do you require anything else, Miss?" The House Elf asked politely.

"No, thank you." Hermione said gratefully.

The House Elf nodded and closed the door behind her.

With a heavy sigh Hermione stripped out her old fashioned nightdress and knickers and stepped into the tub. Sighing contentedly as she laid back in the tup and let the water wash over her skin. She relaxed for a little while before she washed herself clean and got out of the tub. She wrapped a towel around her torso and walked across to the dresser, leaving wet footprints on the stone floor as she went. She dried herself, put the towel over the chair and opened the wardrobe, looking at the selection of clothes Rowena had gathered for her.

Her mouth popped open in delight. The dresses were beautiful, floor length, made with a mix of cotton, and velvet. The petticoats were white cotton, as was the corset and slip. Slowly Hermione dressed. She tied the corset as well as she could, though it was difficult. In the end she left it half undone before slipping the cotton slip and dress over it. She rearranged the skirt and made sure nothing was tucked into her knickers before walking to the mirror and taking a good look at herself. A woman from the past stared back at her, hazel eyes wide with enthusiasm. She smiled.

She tidied up her room, picked up the Time Turner and headed out of her room. She walked down to the dungeons, hoping to find Salazar and they could complete their work on the Time Turner. They had made progress last night, and had ruled out many of the more common spells. They had debated different potions and transfiguration spells, but none had worked. A complicated, ancient device like this Time Turner was going to take a bit more to fix then the basic charm or potion.

She opened the door to the dungeon and peeked inside. It was dark. She waved her wand and the two candles on the desk flickered to life, the dragon – safe in its cage on the other side of the room – hissed at her angrily. She ignored the creature, and stepped inside, "Hello?" she called.

A door on the other side of the room opened and Salazar appeared, he seemed surprised to see her down here again. After a few seconds he smiled and stepped forward, closing the door to his private chambers behind him.

"Did you bring it?" he asked eagerly.

She held out the Time Turner for him to see.

"Great, let's get started," he said, "I've been thinking about different solutions to this problem all night."

She smiled at his enthusiasm, but she wasn't looking forward to spending the entire day down here in the dungeon. "Can we work somewhere else?" she asked, "It's such a nice day outside and it's so dark down here."

He sighed. "What did you have in mind?"

. . . 

Slytherin looked up at the blue sky dotted with white fluffy clouds and frowned. "Are you sure this is the best place to work?" he asked doubtfully.

Hermione smiled, "Of course," she said smugly, "the sun is shining, its a beautiful day. Wouldn't you rather be out here then couped up inside?"

"I expect," he muttered.

Hermione smirked and pulled the Time Turner out of her pocket and laid it on the grass between them. Salazar picked it up "Ok," he said, "let's try this again."

They worked on the Time Turner for a while, trying spells they hadn't tried before. Salazar used his wand to slowly pull the Time Turner apart, careful to remember how to put it together again.

After a few minutes working in companionable silence Hermione started talking. She was curious to find out more about this handsome man, this founder whose house was responsible for the creation of so many Dark Wizards.

"So," she said, breaking the silence. "Tell me about yourself?"

Salazar glanced up at her, his piercing green eyes meeting hers. He was silent for a few seconds. "What do you want to know?" he asked eventually.

Hermione shrugged, trying to appear casual as a blush coloured her cheeks. She didn't expect that reaction when their eyes had met. "Well, to start why did you decide to do this?" she swept her hand out, including the grounds and the castle in her admission. "You don't seem the type to be interested in education."

He laughed heartily, and she was surprised to find he had a good one. "I'm not," he admitted, "What I am interested in, is the survival of our society, that witches and wizards with the talent learn to use their skills in a place free from persecution and hatred." He looked over at the castle, "And I was in debt to Godric, my involvement in this school was payment."

"What happened?" she asked.

"He saved my life."

"How?" Hermione asked, surprise colouring her reaction. She leaned forward, intrigued by his story despite herself.

Salazar turned his head away and looked up at the castle. He was silent for a few minutes. "I was married once," he said, and Hermione nodded. She knew this already.

He turned his head and smiled. "We married young, and she died young." He sighed. "My son was only a few years old when things started to change."

"How?" She asked softly.

He took a deep breath. "My wife, she was the only one in her family with magic. She didn't know our history, or heard the stories of the witches and wizards of the past. It took her unaware."

"What did?" Hermione asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

"The magic." He said, his voice equally as soft as he looked down at the ground. "It took her over, and one day she wasn't the woman I had married. She was a monster, so steeped in Dark Magic that she was barely recognisable as the woman I had loved – who I had been prepared to grow old with."

"What happened?" she whispered sadly, unprepared for the reaction his words had caused in her.

"She tried to kill me, and our son. Godric, seeing the signs better than I had, stopped her. She fled, running far away, away from my influence where she could practice her Dark Arts."

"Where is she now?"

"She died, killed herself with an overdose of magic trying to achieve something unachievable. Immortality."

A shiver ran up Hermione spine. _That_ hit a little too close to home. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling horrible that she had brought up the subject.

"It was a few years ago now," he said, "I have tried to move past it."

"And your son?" she asked.

"With my brother, in Spain. He hates me. He will be enrolled in this school next year."

"He hates you? What on earth for?"

"He blames me for his mother's death, I blame myself too. If I had been more vigilant, more aware that she was struggling with the power I could have helped her, instead I let her explore the darker magic's of our society, and it killed her."

"It wasn't your fault" she said earnestly.

"It was," he said. He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "I've spoken to Godric since, I've told him my position on wizards and witches born outside the bloodline. I do not think they have a right to our abilities, they don't have the control or the knowledge to resist the darker aspects."

"This is why you refused Muggleborn's acceptance to Hogwarts?!" She said with a shocked gasp, everything she knew about him going down the drain in heartbeat.

"Muggleborn's?" he said, confused.

"Oh," she said in surprise. "A Muggle is a non-magic person, we call a Muggleborn someone whose parents had no magical abilities."

"How interesting, I wonder how that name came about." He said.

"I would like to know too," she said with a laugh.

"What is your concern over…Muggleborn's?" he asked, testing the name.

Hermione didn't say anything at first. She was unsure if she should tell him the truth. Everything she had heard about this wizard spoke of a man so deep set in hate, but what she thought she had known, and the reality was so different then what she had believed.

"I'm a Muggleborn witch," she said, looking him in the eye.

He sat back in shock, staring at her. Hermione didn't say anything, just continued to look at him evenly. "Not all of us have the control of a tea spoon," she said in distain, making her position on the matter clear. "Not all of us are Dark Wizards unable to control our powers. Most of us are just grateful to be given this chance to learn."

"My experience of Muggleborn's speaks differently," he said.

"And my experience of Slytherin's does the same," she snapped back at him.

He's eyes widened in shock, and Hermione almost smiled in satisfaction. "Did you know the most powerful Dark Wizard in history came from your bloodline, that he was sorted into Slytherin?" she continued, "every Dark Witch or Wizard that has gone bad in this country has been from that house."

She almost felt bad at the horrified look on his face. He had gone completely pale. "What are you talking about?" he asked sadly.

She sighed sadly, "Your wife was not the last the give into the Dark Arts."

He took a deep breath. "But my house, all those children I've dedicated my life to teaching. They are not evil."

"Not all of them no."

"Why would so many sway in this direction?" he mused, looking up at the sky and shaking his head. "Why would they give into the Darkness?"

Hermione pursed her lips together. He looked so heartbroken. "Slytherin's….are ambitious, and I am afraid your position on Muggleborn's has not…exactly been, accurately interpreted," she finished lamely, unsure of how to explain it without hurting him further.

Salazar sighed weakly and looked down at the Time Turner in his hand. "That does not surprise me."

They were silent for a few minutes. Hermione knew she had said too much but she couldn't take it back now.

"Let's just, work on this," she said trying to break the awkward silence.

He nodded, seeming to be relieved. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his fractured nerves as he used his wand to tap the side of Time Turner. Sparks flew and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I think we are finally getting somewhere," he muttered.

Hermione leaned forward, interested. "What did you do?" she asked quickly.

"Nothing," he said quickly, before he frowned in contemplation. "What does Time have in common with an emotive response?" he asked casually.

She looked up at him. "Reaction to change?" she said.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Let's try a Transfiguration spell."

"We already have," she reminded him.

"Yes, but we haven't tried a spell that changes something to its previous state. A Butterfly into a caterpillar, for example."

"What are you trying to do?" she asked.

"I'm trying to change it back into a physically representation of time, and then trap it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Oh."

**...**


	5. Chapter 5

**...**

**A Great Beginning**

**Chapter 5**

The Time Turner was easy to fix after that, and by the time the sun was starting to set, Salazar held the newly working Time Turner in his palm. "I can't believe this little device is so powerful," he said.

"Thank you for helping me," Hermione said formally, "I don't think I could have done it without your help."

He glanced at her and smiled, "It was my pleasure," he said inclining his head.

Hermione smiled again, a blush tinging her cheeks. "Well, I must be getting back!" She started to get to her feet but Salazar reached out and grabbed her hand. She froze, looking up at him in shock.

"You can stay if you want." He said with a smile.

Hermione took a deep breath, her heart pounded in her chest. "I have people back home who would be worried about me," she whispered sadly. "Harry and Ron must think the worst."

Salazar frowned. "Is one your lover?" he asked.

Hermione looked at him in shock. "Oh, no! Just friends, ones I consider family. I've known them both since we were ten years old," she jerked her chin up to indicate the castle looming in front of them, "since our first day of school actually."

"Oh, sorry," he muttered quickly. There was a pause, "Do you have a lover?" he asked, trying to appear casual.

"No," she said quietly, looking away to hide her grin.

He smiled and didn't say any more as they got to their feet and started walking up to the castle. Hermione didn't know what to think. He was gorgeous no doubt about that, funny, and smart but 1000 years separated them, and there wasn't anything she could do about that.

The entrance hall was cool compared to the dwindling sunshine outside, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around her chest. The dress was beautiful, but didn't do much against the early evening chill.

They ascended the stairs, heading up to the tower that in her time here had housed Dumbledore's office. Now it was a place the Founders could relax and talk without distractions. The stone Gargoyle at the base of the tower stared at them impassively until Salazar spoke the password and the stone beast hopped to the side, letting them pass. She let Salazar walk in front of her, and followed him up the tight spiral staircase.

As they reached the top Salazar glanced at her with an expression she couldn't read. "What?" she asked quietly.

He didn't get a chance to answer as the door opened, revealing a smiling Helga and the other two Founders sitting down in the middle of the room. Slytherin just shook his head and slipped into the room, Hermione following with a frown. Helga looked between the two of them, a knowing smile on her face. Hermione turned her head away, trying not to blush and give her feeling away.

"How did it go?" Ravenclaw asked curiously. She was sitting in a comfy armchair by the fire reading a book as Godric sat at the desk, pouring over a stack of parchments. As Hermione got a closer look she realised they were the schools acceptance letters, and felt a rush of memories at receiving her own all those years ago.

"It's fixed," Salazar said, "Hermione can go home whenever she wants."

She felt a sudden rush of sadness at his words and realised that she would miss being here.

"Excellent news!" Hufflepuff said brightly, before she realised how that sounded, "Not that it wasn't a pleasure to meet you, my dear," she said with a smile.

Feeling better, Hermione laughed, and even Ravenclaw pulled a smile. Godric laughed heartily. "I agree, it had been an honour to have met you lass," he said, tilting his quill in her direction.

Hermione looked down, blushing to the roots of her hair, trying to hide the smile that had appeared on her face. It only caused Gryffindor to laugh harder.

Rowena set her book down in her lap and took a drink from her goblet of wine, eyeing Salazar through her lashes. "So," she said quietly, putting the goblet down on the table. "Are you going with her?"

Hermione looked up in shock as Salazar glared at the smarter woman. "Mind your own business Rowena," he said darkly.

"You're my friend Salazar, your business is my business."

Salazar muttered something under his breath, turning away.

Hermione's heart was thundering in her chest. "What is she talking about Salazar?" she said quietly.

He sighed, "There is nothing left for me here." He said quietly

"We're here for you," Helga said, equally as soft, walking forward and putting her arm around his waist.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the friendship, I do, you have all been amazing to work with, and I am proud of what this school has achieved in such a short time. But it isn't enough, I need more. My son is almost a man, ready to learn magic on his own. He does not need me anymore, and…"

"There are too many memories." Rowena whispered.

"Yes," he agreed, "I see her at every turn."

"You have to let her go Salazar," Helga said earnestly.

He looked at Hermione, quickly before turning back to his friends. "I know that, I'm working on it."

Hermione's eyes widened, she couldn't do more than stare at him as he turned back to Rowena and continued to talk. She wasn't interpreting things wrong, he liked her. She could tell. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. But she was willing to give it a go.

She took a deep breath. "I can't stay here, but you are more than willing to come with me. But I don't know if I can bring you back," she said, "Time, it's not something we can use lightly."

"I know," he said again. "I'm counting on it."

"You'll leave everyone you love behind," she whispered.

"My son is the only family I care about, and I have not seen him in a year, not since his mother died."

Hermione looked at the others. They didn't seem nearly as surprised as she did. She bit her lip. Making a split second decision. "If this is your decision then I'm happy to support It."

"It is," he said.

She nodded. She turned to the others. "Thank you, for welcoming me into your home. You wouldn't believe how grateful I was for that."

"Oh dear," Helga said, walking forward to giving her a hug, "Take care of yourself, will you?"

Hermione smiled and nodded. She said goodbye to Rowena and Godric, both of whom offered to shake her hand.

She took a step back into the canter of the room and pulled the Time Turner out of her pocket. She waited as Salazar said goodbye to his friends, he hugged Rowena and Helga, and gave Godric a firm handshake. "Please, take care of my animals," he said to Godric as she moved into the center of the room.

"You mean that terror of a dragon, she will be released as soon as she is big enough. As for that serpent…"

"Keep him, give him to my son when he returns for the school year," Salazar requested.

Godric frowned, but Helga nodded. "Of course," she agreed.

Hermione took a deep breath and moved closer to Salazar, standing next to him. She slipped the long chain over his neck, and then put it over her head. She looked over at the others and smiled. "Thank you," she said again before she spun the Time Turner around in her hand, once, twice she turned it over and over. All around them the room started to spin, faster and faster, the room became a blur as Time slipped quickly past.

**...**


	6. Chapter 6

**...**

**A Great Beginning**

**Chapter 6**

Abruptly the room around them stopped spinning. Taken unaware Hermione stumbled forward, crashing into the desk in the centre of the room and grabbing Salazar's hand to prevent herself from falling. "Merlin!" Salazar said, clutching her arm tight. The long chain around their necks was stretched tight and Hermione gasped for breath, taking a step back to ease the pressure on her neck before pulling the chain over their heads and tucking the Time Turner back into her pocket.

They looked around, they were inside Headmistress McGonagall's office, the office furnished in much the same way it had been when Dumbledore was headmaster – minus Fawkes.

Behind them the door to the Headmistresses private quarters opened and Minerva appeared, wand held out in front of her. Her wary, ready for anything expression turned to shock when she noticed Hermione standing in front of her desk.

"Miss Granger!" she spluttered, taking a step forward. "What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, her attention focusing of Salazar as she noticed him a second later.

"Um…it's a long story Professor," Hermione admitted with a sheepish grin.

"I should think so," McGonagall huffed, "Harry and Ron have been worried sick about you. The Room of Time was empty when the ministry went to check on you almost 2 months ago. Everyone has been wondering where you were. Nobody knew how to find you, dear."

"Two months," she whispered in shock.

"Our calculations were more accurate than I thought." Salazar muttered, impressed.

McGonagall frowned. "Who are you?" she asked quickly.

"It's OK, Professor." Hermione said quickly, not wanting to alarm the older woman. "Don't worry. I need to see Harry and Ron and tell them what's going on. The last of the Order too, if you can. "

"I will ask everyone to come to the Burrow, will that do?"

"We will meet you there," she assured the other woman.

McGonagall gave her one last look before turning around and heading back into her chambers, closing the door behind her. A few moments later the door opened again and she appeared fully-dress. She stalked across the room, towards the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and shouted into the fire. "The Burrow!" turning a bright, vivid green the fire roared up to twice its height, she stepped inside, disappearing into the flames.

"What happened to her?!" Salazar gasped, taking a step towards the fireplace. Hermione laughed and reached for his arm, holding him back. "It's ok," she said, sympathetic. "It's called Floo Powder, it allows us to travel by fireplace. Only to those connected to the network of course, the muggles would get a terrible fright if they saw this." She laughed at her own joke.

"Brilliant," he muttered to himself. Hermione smiled and let go of his arm, letting him step forward and examine the fire. He knelt down close to the fire and held out his hand, careful to keep away from the flames – that had now changed back to their normal reddish-gold hue. "Does it burn?" he asked curiously.

"Not with the Floo Powder in the fire, the warlocks who invented it made sure of that."

"What makes the fire burn without heat?"

"I….don't know."

Salazar looked at her quickly. "Sorry," he muttered, "I can't wait to see what else has changed in the centuries since."

"Wait till you see the clothes," Hermione deadpanned, walking towards him. "It's time," She said at his curious look. He nodded and stood up, standing next to her and watching her intently.

She took a handful of powder and motioned for him to do the same. "Throw the powder into the fire and shout your destination as you step into it." She explained. "We are going to The Burrow, where all my friends are waiting to see me. Wait a few seconds after I leave before coming after me."

He nodded. "That seems straightforward enough."

She threw the Floo Powder into the fire and stepped forward into the flames, shouting the name of her destination as she did.

Floo was not her favourite way to travel, she spun around and around, flying past fireplaces too quickly to count before she was suddenly jolted to a stop as she stumbled out of the fire and onto the rug in the Burrows living room.

She was greeted by a bombardment of people, arms wrapped around her and lifted her to her feet. Cheerful shouts of 'Hermione' greeted her ears. She laughed and felt a few tears gather at the corner of her eyes as she struggled to hold back the tears.

She tried to shuffle away from the edge of the fireplace, conscious that Salazar would come through behind her, but nobody was budging. Ron had his arms around her as Ginny talked non-stop into her ear. She could see Hagrid over the heads of everyone else in the room. He was crying into his large polka dot handkerchief and sniffing loudly.

The fire roared behind her, green light filled the room and a few people screamed in surprise. Salazar came stumbling out of the fire, crashing into her and sending both of them tumbling to the floor.

Shouts came from her friends around her and Hermione held out her hand quickly. "It's ok, it's ok!" she said quickly, looking up into the faces of her friends. Everyone stared at Salazar, and slowly silence filled the room. With a sigh Salazar got to his feet, before offering his hand to Hermione to help her to her feet. With a smile she accepted and stood beside him, brushing of her skirts.

"What on earth are you wearing Hermione?" Ginny said, asking the important questions.

Hermione looked down and shrugged. "This is what they wore back then," she explained.

"Back when, what?" Harry asked, annoyed, "And who, in Merlin's name are you?" Harry asked Salazar. Quickly taking out his wand and pointing it at Slytherin, ready for anything.

Slytherin watched him closely, sizing him up. The wand pointed at his chest was disconcerting, but it could be dealt with. He cleared his throat. "I'm Salazar. Salazar Slytherin."

Everyone looked at him with varying degrees of expression, but nobody said anything.

"I beg your pardon." McGonagall finally snapped, breaking the silence in the room.

"He isn't making it up." Hermione said. "That's where I was all this time. The Time Turner dropped off its stand, and I stupidly grabbed for it. It took me back in time by almost a thousand years."

"To the Founders of Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "I was in London, where the Ministry of Magic would be, I had to apparate to Hogwarts."

Her best friend looked at Salazar curiously. Green eyes met, and Salazar raised an eyebrow, "Who are you?" the older Wizard asked.

"Harry, Harry Potter." Harry said, reluctantly taking a step forward and offering his hand to shake.

Slytherin accepted, shaking the younger man's hand, his eyes swept up to Harry's hairline as he noticed the distinct scar on his forehead. "That curse must have been a powerful one to cause suck a scar."

Harry put his hand to his forehead self-consciously. Nobody had commented on it for years. "Yes, the worst."

Salazar dropped his hand and stepped back, frowning in puzzlement. He glanced around the room and noticed everyone was looking at him. He turned his head back to Hermione and noticed she was doing the same. "Let me guess," he said sadly, "One from my house?"

Hermione licked her lips, but nodded sadly.

He turned his head and looked Harry in the eye, "I am sorry."

Harry just blinked in surprise and everyone else in the room started in shock. Hermione could tell they didn't know what to think of him, and smiled to herself.

"It's been a while since anyone has asked me that," Harry admitted, as he licked his lips nervously, "It's the Avada Kedavra curse, he said. A Dark Wizard tried to kill me when I was a baby. It's a long story" he added.

"Who would do such a thing?" Salazar asked.

"Lord Voldemort," Harry said, (everyone save Hermione and Salazar shuddered involuntary) "your last living relative."

He sighed. "So my son did get married..." He muttered dryly.

Hermione gave a snort and covered her mouth with her hands.

Serious now Salazar looked at Harry again. "Hermione explained the hostilities between the children in my House and the rest of the school, and our society's separation between those born Muggle and those born whose magic has been in the family for centuries. That was never my intention."

"When you voice objections over Muggleborn's in the school that's what happens," Harry said angrily.

Salazar shook his head. "My objects were based on my own observations on how Muggleborn's handle power. I admit my view was biased, and time has long since paled the truth."

"Sounds like excuses to me, Ron said angrily.

"Sounds like you don't know me at all," he said, steel in his voice.

Silence greeted his explanation. "No," agreed Mr. Weasley, "It seems we don't."

"Feel free to enlighten us," McGonagall suggested. Interested to hear what this man had to say.

Salazar and Hermione looked at one another. "Salazar, isn't the man we thought he was," she said, looking around at the others.

"What kind of man did you think I was?" he asked, amused.

She smirked, "I thought you were a man who encouraged the Dark Arts, instead I find out you are as appalled by them as we are."

He looked around at everyone in the room, suddenly realising something. He gave an amused snort. "Typical Griffindor's."

**...**

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, what did you all think. I really enjoyed writing a new pairing in a fandom I have always loved. It was great to write in the HP world again. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Take care everyone. Please leave a review if you liked it and tell me what you thought.
> 
> xx
> 
> Ashes


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